Phil Reisman: Even bridges get corporate sponsors

Mar. 20, 2013

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So if some corporate giant ponies up enough cash to help finance the construction of the new Tappan Zee Bridge, it’s assumed — actually, it’s ensured — that the bridge will be permanently renamed to advertise the sponsor and everything its brand stands for.

A Journal News story under the headline “TZB Renaming Could Raise Millions” speculated that the $3.9 billion (and counting) cost of bridge construction might compel the fiscally challenged state to look for outside funding.

Public projects are traditionally built by government of the people and for the people. But we’re in a brave new world. As Mitt Romney pointed out, “Corporations are people, my friend.”

Did I say “permanently renamed”? Strike that, please. I’m suddenly reminded that the Houston Astros baseball team originally dubbed their stadium Enron Field.

Well, you know the story: Enron crumbled in scandal; thieving executives went to jail; the ballpark was renamed Minute Maid, after an orange juice company, and, now, the Astros have moved to the American League.

Katharine Conroy can attest to the transitory nature of things, especially in politics.

Conroy is the daughter of the late Gov. Malcolm Wilson, whose name is attached to the present Tappan Zee Bridge. People have either forgotten or never knew that the official name of the bridge is the Gov. Malcolm Wilson Tappan Zee Bridge.

It was named after him in 1994.

Conroy, an attorney who lives in New Rochelle, said she thought it was “bizarre” that her father’s name could be replaced with a corporate brand — a possibility I first posited in a 2011 column.

“They have all these sketches of this supposedly innovative and beautiful new design of the bridge,” she said, laughing. “What are they going to do, hang a PepsiCo sign on it?”

It should be understood that I called Conroy for her reaction and that she was not actively campaigning on behalf of her father’s memory. She hasn’t petitioned the Thruway Authority, or written to the Governor’s Office.

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Nevertheless, she’ll give a candid opinion if you ask for it. She feels it’s important that Wilson’s name remain connected to the bridge.

Wilson, a Republican who hailed from Yonkers, was lieutenant governor under Gov. Nelson Rockefeller for 15 years. He became governor in 1973, when Rockefeller resigned to run for vice president. The following year, Wilson ran against Hugh Carey and lost.

“My father was the quintessential New Yorker. He loved New York,” Conroy said. “All he ever wanted from the first time he went to the Legislature when he was 24 was to someday become governor of New York, and he did achieve that goal, albeit only for a short period of time.

“He was real scholar and practitioner of New York state government. I think it is a fine and fitting tribute to have that bridge bear his name.”

Conroy acknowledged that only “political junkies over the age of 50” are likely to identify Malcolm Wilson, but then there are plenty of bridges and roads named after people whose legacies aren’t easily recalled.

“They have their names on there because they made long and lasting contributions,” she said. “And my father for the 36 years in which he was an important figure helped create the New York we know and love. No question about it.”

Wilson knew the art of political compromise. “He understood that you had to meet people where they were and bring them to where you wanted them to be,” his daughter said.

That’s what a bridge does.

Conroy recalled that when the bridge was rededicated, her father was 80 years old and not at the “top of his game.” Had he been sharper of mind he would’ve declined the honor, she believes.

He didn’t seek accolades, she said.

“He really believed that being a public servant meant being a public servant.”

Conroy admitted that, like most people, she usually leaves out her father’s name when she refers to the bridge. Her friends kid her about it.

But she leaves no doubt that she is proud of her father.

His brand was integrity.

She’d like the name and brand to be repeated and remembered — except, of course, during morning traffic reports when there’s a 45-minute backup.

“Then it’s just as well they don’t say, the Malcolm Wilson Tappan Zee Bridge,” she said.